


i am worthless. :)

by ShippingCactus



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26808712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingCactus/pseuds/ShippingCactus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	i am worthless. :)

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” I kept wailing, louder and louder, knowing no one could hear me. “AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” I cried again, tears streaming down my face. My cat sat by my side. He meowed once or twice. Or maybe a thousand times. I couldn’t hear him. I could only hear the thoughts rushing through my head:  _ You aren’t worth shit. You can’t do anything right. You can’t fucking talk to people and that’s why everyone hates you. You try but you’ll never be good enough, so you might as well give up. Any work you do will never be enough. And don’t you dare try talking to your ‘friends’ about this because they aren’t your goddamn therapist and if you treat them like that you’ll burden them so much they’ll leave you. And forget about Mom. She doesn’t give a shit about you, and you know that. And Dad’s mind is empty. He doesn’t care about you, not about what matters. _

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” My bawling began to quiet, becoming nothing but painful squeaks and choking gurgles. Saliva filled my mouth and tears filled my eyes; I was drowning. I was in so much pain.  _ Everything I’ve worked for, if you can even call my pitiful efforts ‘work,’ is for nothing. The future is only going to hurt me. Why can’t I just fucking focus? Why can’t I just be productive, be worth something for once in my life? Why can’t my mother care about my mental health? Why can’t I talk to someone about how I feel? _

I began to yank on my hair, trying so very hard to pull out some of it; to have some sustenance of myself, to feel something. With no luck, I proceeded to beat my thighs, a common way I would lash out onto myself. But no one understood. I beat my legs, my head, rip at my arms, bite my hands.

“Stop that, Kiyotaka!” my dad would yell. “Don’t do that!”

But I would only cry more. Crying did nothing for me; it was pointless.  _ I just want to feel something. I just want to be worth something. But that will never happen. _

I stood up, shuffled slowly over to the wall beside the couch. My cat meowed as I almost tripped over him. “I’m sorry.” About what I was apologizing for, I’m not sure.

And then a dense thud echoed across the room, followed by another. The low echo continued as I repeatedly banged my head against the wall. By this point, my screams were completely silent, although in a way they always have been. Tears still kept trickling down my face, slowly dripping onto the floor.

_ I just want to fucking die. _


End file.
